The Space Between Us
by Muzzy-Olorea
Summary: [MS] Knowing the truth is a constant headache, Plan C is a big problem, following a lead is a dangerous task and being on death row is deadly in itself.
1. Look At The Mess I’ve Got It In

**The Space In Between Us**

**MS Knowing the truth is a constant headache, Plan C is a big problem, following a lead is a dangerous task and being on death row is deadly in itself.**

**Chapter One: Look At The Mess I've Got It In**

_**Disclaimer: Let's see, I own my Muse, my imagination, my dreams, the fangirl in me and not a whole lot else. Fox I worship the ground you metaphorically walk on.**_

**A/N:- I've roughly planned this fic and its sequel out and while there's an obvious focus on certain characters, I guarantee that the other characters will make appearance ……. if not in this fic then in the sequel.**

Sara stared at the sheet of paper in front of her and even though she had read it over three times already, she proceeded to read it through again. Suddenly everything over the past month started to make sense …… When she had gone to see Veronica and Nick yesterday and had heard their case, she too had come out believing that Lincoln Burrows was innocent and that he had been set up … but there was something else that Veronica had said …. Something about how she knew that Michael would do _anything_ to get Lincoln out of there. That coupled with the fact she knew about Michael's amazing ability to retain information and plan things out and his impeccable high-achieving past, it all suddenly dawned on her.

It was all a lie.

The sheet in front of her confirmed that he wasn't really diabetic.

So why did he go to all these lengths to say that he was? To get into the infirmary, to see her? No she was just an accessory. Maybe the infirmary was his main route on the escape plan he had going on …. He must have done his research very thoroughly, which mean he researched her and knew all about her …. She didn't mean anything to him … all that charm he worked, the smiles, the fact he came back to save her during the riot … it was just because he needed her. She was a pawn.

And she hated herself for falling for him.

She never let herself have feelings like that or bring her defences down but there had been something about him ….

He was a good actor damn him. It had all been a lie created to suck her in and she, like a fool, had fallen for it.

He started to stir on the hospital bed and she rubbed her face in her hands for a minute to clear her head before turning to face him.

"How do you feel?

"Groggy."

"That would be from the anaesthesia." She told him.

He slowly swung his legs off the bed and sat up as she handed him his painkillers.

Michael held the paper cups and tried to get his head in gear. Last thing he remembered was Sucre peeling the guard suit off and then everything was a blur. He gulped down the pills and looked around.

"It's night time. You should be off shift." Michael said observantly.

Sara had her back to him, locking the painkillers back into the medical cabinet. "I know."

"You just wanted to spend the night with me eh?" Michael said with a small grin.

Sara turned round and by the look on her face he knew immediately that something was wrong. There wasn't a hint of amusement in her eyes and her face was stony and cold.

She sat down on the chair opposite him, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. "Michael you know that day when you were in the yard and I opened up to you?" He nodded unsurely. "Well, I think it's time you did the same to me." She said, staring at him, trying to read his facial expression.

Michael felt her eyes bore into his and he felt distinctly uncomfortable. The guard suit – Sucre hadn't been able to get the whole thing completely off – Sara was sharp – she must have seen the cloth in his wound. He couldn't explain that so he thought the safest option would be to delay the questioning. "Well, I hate Brussel sprouts. Lincoln loves them and I used to remember at Christmas dinner every year he used to pile my plate high with them in an attempt to convert me and every time I complained he simply added one more." Michael said with a quiet chuckle. He looked back up at Sara. Her expression hadn't changed. She meant business and he had no idea what to say.

Sara looked at him, surprised to see him actually looking scared, afraid of what she was going to say next but then immediately she recalled all the feelings that he made her feel and coupled with the bitter twist of betrayal, she was resolved to get to the bottom of this. "How about we start with some answers to my many questions. Anything you want to tell me about your medical history?"

It was a real effort for Michael to hold her gaze this time but he knew the moment he looked away was the moment the whole thing collapsed. Even so, as he looked into her eyes he knew that she knew the truth anyway and the fact that she knew he wasn't diabetic caused a whole series of problems much bigger than if she had just noticed the guard uniform.

"You played me Michael." She said, her eyes no longer able to hide her disappointment and betrayal. "And I need to know why."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Michael was cornered and none of the excuses that ran through his head seemed to be as powerful or as believable to nearly make the elaborate lie he had dreamed up plausible. For a split second he considered telling her the whole truth since it seemed that a smart woman as herself would certainly have put two and two together with all the information she had but admitting to it was a different matter. He slipped off the bed and took a step towards her. "It's not like that."

Sara stood up and turned away, her back facing him. "I'll tell you what it's not like." She said forcefully. "It's not like you're not living a lie, it's not like this is the only thing you've lied about and it's not like you're the only one who's standing to get hurt in all this."

"Sara …" Michael said, touching her lightly on the shoulder.

She spun round angrily. "Don't touch me." She seethed.

The door flung open and Michael took a few steps backwards to the bed.

"Everything okay in here?" The guard asked looking from Sara to Michael and back again.

Sara touched her forehead to her hand and took a deep breath to calm herself. "Yes thanks Pete. We'll be done in a minute."

"Okay." Pete said shooting Michael a suspicious glare before closing the door again.

When Sara turned round again her eyes were glistening with silent tears. "No more lies Michael. You're planning something. You came in here with the plan already made. You researched everything. You researched me. I bet you know everything." She said her voice hurried but hushed.

"Not everything." Michael said quietly. He felt guilty, yes he felt guilty. So guilty in fact that if he wasn't doing it to save his brother he would hate himself right about now.

Sara shook her head, sparks practically flying out of her head. "I was just a tool." She said, her voice thick with resentment. She turned around and walked over to the medical cabinet, starting to rearrange things inside to keep her hands busy.

"It's not like that." Michael said forcefully. "You could have been sixty years old, male with a beard and I would still have pretended to have diabetes to get in here." He paused, wondering if saying this would push her further away from him than before. "Trust me falling for you wasn't part of the plan." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sara froze. She wasn't stupid and she certainly wasn't blind and ever since he first set foot in this room she had been aware of the sexual tension between them. Sure they had flirted and exchanged looks but she had never expected to hear him say something like that out loud. And it totally threw her off. She closed her eyes wishing she could have been able to read him as he was saying that. She felt so conflicted. She wanted to believe what he was saying without setting herself up to get hurt again but how was she to know he wasn't just playing her in another attempt to regain her trust and for her to keep his secret. She sighed. The sad thing was, she wasn't about to tell anyone about the escape plan anyway – no matter how betrayed she felt. "Leave me Michael." She said steadily.

"Sara …"

"Just go. Please."

Michael stared at the back of her head with regret and it surprised him that the foremost thought in his mind was not the fact that the whole escape plan might have just blown up in his face but the fact that he might have just lost her.

**A/N:- Thoughts on the opening chapter?**


	2. But Through My Pride

**Chapter Two: But Through My Pride**

_**Disclaimer: I own my Muse and psychotic imagination. Everything else I have humbly borrowed from FOX.**_

**A/N:- Thanks for your reviews guys! I really appreciate the feedback.**

"You look worried." Sucre said, looking over at his cellmate.

"Do I? I wonder why." Michael said, letting out an aggravated sigh.

"Everything's going to be okay right? I mean with your back and the new escape plan?"

"Let's see I have a burn on my back that I can't explain, my brother's still very close to getting killed and I no longer have the blueprints to the psych ward …." _And Dr Sara Tancredi knows all and we're sitting on a time bomb. _"So no things are not okay."

"Scofield. You've got an appointment with the doc." The guard said, opening the door.

"And things just keep getting better and better." He muttered, tossing the notepad on which he had been attempting to draw the missing section of the blueprint to Sucre before following the guard out.

Sara wasn't in the consultation room when he arrived but she walked in soon after but she got straight down to business telling him to remove his sweatshirt.

"You removed the bandage." She stated.

"It was itching." Michael said simply.

Sara didn't give any reply to that but set about cleaning it and giving it a fresh dressing.

After five minutes of nothing Michael couldn't bear the strained silence between them anymore. "I'm not a bad guy Sara." He said, straining his neck so he could shoot her a look over his shoulder.

"It's Dr Tancredi and I think the court would beg to differ with that." Sara said, finishing tying off his bandage and walking over to the sink to wash her hands. She hoped that he was when Michael would admit to going in to rob the bank simply to get into jail with his brother.

Michael pulled his sweatshirt back on and looked at her. "You really think I wanted to rob the bank for the money? You really think that Lincoln killed the Vice President's brother?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. You're both still here and as such you're under my care for medical treatment. Other than that your life doesn't concern me." Sara told him, finding it hard to hold his gaze without flinching.

Michael dropped his gaze and stared at her feet for a moment before standing up. "You might as well have saved yourself the bandages. I don't need any medical treatment." He said and with a tug the fresh dressing and bandage fell out from under his sweatshirt onto the floor and then he was gone.

……………………………………………

Sara walked into the darkened room like she had just stumbled in there and didn't know how.

"Lot on your mind Doc?"

Sara looked to where the voice had come from. "Can we have some lights on in here?" She called to the guard who had showed her in who promptly did as she asked and left her alone with her patient.

"How are you doing Lincoln?" She asked, sitting down next to him on the edge of his bed.

"In between having reoccurring nightmares where I relive my execution night and vivid dreams of all the things I did wrong in my life, things are just dandy." Lincoln replied, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"I don't know a lot of people who have been though as much as you have." Sara said consolingly, glad that she had a chance to focus on someone else's problems rather than her own.

"Well there's a reason for that: most people in my situation are already dead by now." Lincoln said bitterly.

"You said you thought you saw someone you knew at the execution. You sure you weren't hallucinating? Post Traumatic Stress can do some funny things to people." Sara asked.

"No I definitely saw him. It was definitely him. I just don't know why he was there and what he's got to do with all of this!" Lincoln said, getting more and more worked up. "Why WHY was he there? It doesn't make any sense. I just hope Veronica's trying to figure it out because right now it doesn't make ANY sense." He said, pacing up and down his cell.

Sara looked at him worriedly. Her job was to keep him calm and stable and she didn't want to have to put him on medication for the final weeks that he was in prison. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Lincoln took a deep breath and sat back down. "No. No I'm fine." He looked over at Sara. "How's Michael?"

Sara felt a jolt run through her body at the mention of his name. She had relived the scene in the consultation room a hundred times since that morning. Why was she covered with a constant cloud of guilt when it came to Michael? After all he had done to get her mixed up in this and yet he had been the one to storm out of the room. "He seems to be fine."

Lincoln's eyes narrowed. "They said his burn was quite serious."

"How did you know about that? They don't call this solitary for nothing." Sara asked, surprised.

Lincoln shrugged. "The guards know me."

"Well if your brother actually bothered to keep his bandages on for more than two minutes then his wound would be healing fine."

Lincoln gave a quiet chuckle. "He's being difficult about it is he?"

Sara sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "That's putting it mildly."

She looked at Lincoln. She would have expected him to ask her how his brother had got so badly burnt but he didn't seem at all concerned that a guard or another prisoner could be abusing him.

"Too much for you to handle?"

Sara flinched. She didn't like the look Lincoln was giving her or what he was implying. "I think he's too much for himself to handle." She stated, standing up and grabbing her bag. "If the nightmares get too bad I'll prescribe you some sleeping pills next time I'm in."

Lincoln nodded and sighed. "Say 'Hi' to my brother for me." He said watching her go.

He itched to get out of the Shoe. He had to find out what Michael was planning now and more importantly how long it would take him to put his new plan into action.

………………………………………………..

"So let me get this straight …. We can't get to the infirmary the original way because they replaced the pipe and now we can't use Plan B because _someone _had to go and get himself burnt and lose the bloody map!" T-Bag exclaimed, pacing up and down the half redecorated guard's break room.

"Trust me I didn't do it on purpose." Michael glared.

"But there's a third way right? A Plan C?" C-Note asked.

"Yes but it's going to be a struggle to get everything set up and ready in time." Michael said. "Plus the route isn't exactly ideal……."

"Why?" Sucre questioned.

"We have to pass through the CO's HQ." Michael said bluntly before tossing his paintbrush down.

"You have GOT to be kidding me." Sucre exclaimed, shaking his head.

"We could all frigging die!"

"Then we're going to die trying, aren't we?" Michael said determinedly.


	3. I’m Coming To Meet You

**Chapter Three: I'm Coming To Meet You**

_**Disclaimer: Let's see, I own my Muse, my imagination, my dreams, the fangirl in me and not a whole lot else. Fox I worship the ground you metaphorically walk on.**_

**A/N:- For the reviewer who asked, where they dug the hole was the CO's break room but not their HQ ….. that's the image I got anyway … Thanks for the reviews guys.**

"So here's how it's going to work ……. There's a manhole in the middle of the canteen that leads to a network of pipes so on the day of our escape we'll have to start a fight in there to create enough distraction for all of us to slip away. Those pipes will lead us to the CO HQ where we'll have to climb out, cross the office to another set of pipes which lead to the corridor outside of the infirmary. Then we just need to get past the guards and into the infirmary…." Michael explained, pacing his cell.

Sucre looked at him incredulously. "I can't believe you're being serious. Sure there were a number of things that could have gone wrong with the other two plans but this one takes the cake Fish!" he paused. "How are we going to create enough distraction so all of us can slip through the manhole? It'll be hard enough just for one of us to get away unnoticed, not to mention all six of us. Your brother's in solitary, how is he going to get out? How ON EARTH are we just going to be able to appear in HQ and WALK across the room as if it's the most natural thing for a group of convicts to be doing! And then there's the fact that the corridor outside the infirmary is busier than a Manhattan subway ……. There is no way in HELL this is going to work. Not if we had all the luck of the world on our side."

Michael looked at his cellmate. "Any better ideas?"

"Yeah, how about we jack another guard uniform and you get your skinny white ass back into those pipes under the psych ward." Sucre said in a hushed whisper.

Michael shook his head with a hint of a smile. "Sucre my boy you have a lot to learn."

Suddenly the gate rolled open and a guard appeared. "Scofield, time for your shot." Michael just stood there frozen for a moment wondering if the badge had just said what he thought he had just said. "What's your problem Scofield?" the guard said gruffly.

Michael quickly shook his head. "Nothing." He said trying to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Sara had her back to him when he entered the consultation room but when she turned round he saw she was carrying a loaded needle. He frowned. She knew he wasn't diabetic so why …

"Don't worry. It's just a harmless water based liquid but Nurse Katie doesn't need to know that." Sara said, tilting her head in the direction of the office where Katie was busy with paperwork.

Michael raised his eyebrows. "If I didn't know how much you loved your job I'll be scared that you're trying to poison me or something."

Sara managed a tiny smirk before her face returned to being serious. "I need to talk to you about Lincoln."

Michael's face immediately filled with concern. "What's wrong?"

"He's suffering from Post Traumatic Stress, which is nothing unusual considering what he's been through, but there seems to be something which is particularly bothering him. He told you that he saw someone he knew in the observation room?"

"Yeah he mentioned it." Michael said, looking worried. He wanted to believe Lincoln, he really did, but if he did see who he thought he saw then that opened a whole new bag of unanswered questions.

"Do you believe him?" Sara asked him curiously.

Michael scratched the back of his head. "I don't know I'm not sure." He said, looking down at the floor. "I'm not sure of anything anymore."

Sara glanced at him as she peeled off her surgical gloves. "I know Lincoln's innocent." Michael looked up at her. "I've been to see Veronica and I've seen the evidence and all the question marks for myself …. You've got to believe that Lincoln's going to be able to be freed by the courts, the lawful way." Michael gave a disbelieving chuckle. "I know how much you care for your brother …………. Just don't do anything stupid."

Michael met her gaze. She knew and she was pleading with him not to go through with it, not to put her in the difficult position where she would be forced to decide whether she was going to have to tell the Warden all about the plan. "I have no choice." He told her, standing up. "You have no idea who's behind this cover-up and it's better that you don't but what I can tell you is that your father's involved." He said walking to the door. He could see Sara was surprised by the last piece of information but she recovered herself in an instance.

"Michael, I can't let you go ahead with whatever crazy escape plan you've got going." Sara said unblinkingly. Her father. No wonder he had dismissed her so easily when she had gone to him with the request to reconsider Lincoln's execution – he had already made his final decision. Whatever he had been promised was obviously a lot better than refusing to kill some guy off the street who he didn't even know. Was she ever going to get to the truth? Certainly not by asking her father.

Michael held her gaze, determination in his eyes. "Dr Tancredi, with all due respect, you can't stop me." He said before opening the infirmary door.

………………………………………………….

"We have less than two weeks Veronica and you want to waste those two weeks by trying to hunt down some guy who Lincoln _thought_ he saw."

"If he did see his father there then his father could be the one who slipped those papers to the judge." Veronica said, looking up from her computer to Nick Savrinn who was pacing the room.

"The last time Lincoln saw his father was thirty years ago!"

Veronica had to agree. It was a long-shot believing Lincoln. Suddenly something occurred to her. "If that guy who got the stay of execution was at the court house then he would be on tape …… we need to get hold of those tapes."

Nick looked at her, suddenly concerned. "The Agents would have already seen those tapes which means they would have been able to identify whoever it was who did manage to get a stay of execution for Lincoln."

"Which means that we need to find this person before they kill him." Veronica said shooting her partner a worried look. "I don't suppose you've got a contact who could get us a copy of that tape?"

Nick shook his head and looked thoughtful. "No, but I've got another idea………………"

……………………………………..

Michael lay down on his bed and contemplated his situation. 'You can't stop me.' Why did he have to go and say that? Of course she could stop him. She had all the power now and all the motive. In a way her biding her time about exposing the plan made it all the more worse, unsure of how much time and effort was worth putting into planning on Plan C if the whole thing was going to collapse in a few days soon. He had a lot of people relying on him and all he had to rely on was hope and sheer damn luck.

………………………………………..

"'_Most embarrassing moment ever?'" Rachel read from the piece of paper she had just picked out of the jar._

"_Wow Rach, you've got so many to choose from, how are you going to pick just one?" Hannah said giggling._

_Sara smiled at her college friends stretched out on the floor each of them with a bottle of beer in their hands and a dozen empties behind them. "How about the incident with Ted Collins and the principal walking in on you?" She suggested._

"_You're never going to let me forget that one are you Sara?" Rachel sighed shaking her head and taking a swig of her beer._

"_Or the time Nicky told you her party was fairytale fancy dress themed when it really wasn't." Lisa laughed._

"_I don't know, you must just attract these bad situations." Hannah giggled._

"_Okay well since you guys already know all my embarrassing moments and can recite them hundreds of times without ever getting bored, it's some one else's turn." Rachel huffed._

"_Sara don't think that just because you're hiding over in the corner, we're going to forget to ask you to pick." Lisa said shaking the tub of questions._

"_I can always hope." Sara said reluctantly leaning forward and pulling out a piece of paper. "'Describe your ideal husband.' God guys who wrote these questions! It's like we're still in high school."_

"_You didn't really expect us to grow up did you!" Rachel exclaimed, shocked._

"_Fine. I guess I'm going to have to say someone who appreciates me for who I am, cares about me and makes me happy." Sara sighed._

"_God she's still spilling out that crap." Hannah said rolling her eyes._

"_It's a sure sign she's obviously not drunk enough. Someone hand her another beer and then you've got to answer another question Sara." Lisa instructed._

"_What?" Sara said defensively._

"_There's a limit to how much soppiness a group of single, tipsy college girls can take and you've just crossed that line." Rachel told her, pushing the question tub back towards her._

_Sara glared at her and unfolded another piece of paper. "'What's your biggest fear?'"_

"_Ooooh I know. Getting your results back next week and to find out you haven't got 90 or more on one of your test papers." Hannah said, opening another beer._

"_I am NOT like that." Sara insisted._

"_Whatever Sara. That's like saying Rachel doesn't like boys!"_

"_Hey!" Rachel exclaimed tossing some sweets at Hannah._

"_Guys, let Sara answer." Lisa said._

_Sara smiled. She knew her answer would cause her friends to explode and probably throw things at her as well but she couldn't resist it. "My greatest fear would have to be finding that guy and not realising it until it's too late."_

**A/N:- Okay I ended it with some mushy flashback fluff just because it's going to be awhile before we get the real thing.**


	4. I’m Not Looking Back

**Chapter Four: I'm Not Looking Back**

_**Disclaimer: I own my Muse and psychotic imagination. Everything else I have humbly borrowed from FOX.**_

**A/N:- The last section of the previous chapter was Sara dreaming about a time in University …… but you guessed that, right?**

"LJ, you stay here with Nick okay?" Veronica said to Lincoln's son who was stretched out on the sofa.

"Do I have a choice?" LJ made a face.

"Don't be like that. I have a brand new deck." Nick said waving a pack of cards at him lamely.

LJ rolled his eyes as Nick walked Veronica to the door. "Okay so you know what you're going to say?"

Veronica nodded. "I just hope this airs before anything happens." She sighed.

…………………………………….

"Doc's here to see you." The guard told him, flicking the lights on.

Lincoln sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes letting them adjust to the light.

"Hey Lincoln." Sara said, walking into the cell.

"I don't want you to prescribe me anything." Lincoln told her bluntly.

She nodded slowly. "Okay. We'll just talk then." Lincoln looked at her like she was mad. "C'mon you must get kind of lonely being stuck in here….Besides I'm sure we can find something to talk about."

Lincoln shrugged, wondering what game she was playing at. He hated not knowing what was going on out there….. what was Michael planning? Did he and the others have another plan? "Okay, you go first."

"Fine, let's talk about the little escape plan Michael's got going on." She said bluntly. She felt kind of guilty putting Lincoln in such a difficult position especially since he had all kinds of other problems to worry about but she thought she might actually be able to get some answers from him since he didn't know how much she knew already.

Lincoln's eyes widened in surprise and horror. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lincoln, don't play me for a fool." Sara said quietly.

"How much do you know?"

"I know that somehow the infirmary is key to his plan which is why he pretended to have diabetes and I know that Michael's risking a lot doing this." She said seriously.

"Does he know you know?"

"Does he know the risks totally outweigh the chance of success?

Lincoln's eyes narrowed. He knew what he was about to say next was a low-shot but he did not want Sara to put him in the position where she pushed him for details of the plan using emotional blackmail against him.

"Does he know the doctor who looked after him so well used to be a drug addict feeding her habit with medical supplies that could have been used to treat sick patients?"

………………………………………………….

As soon as Michael entered the half-refurbished guards' break room, he could feel the tension in the air. As soon as the guard left, he found himself surrounded by T-bag, Sucre, C-Note and Westmoreland.

"Well Fish," T-bag started, walking up to Michael and staring him in the face. "Sucre says there's something we ought to know about the plan."

Michael glanced at his cellmate who shrugged and looked slightly guilty.

"I told you. We have to pass through the CO's HQ." Michael stated, feeling slightly uncomfortable that T-bag was invading his personal space.

"And when were you going to tell us about the whole canteen situation?" C-Note spat.

"Now." Michael sighed. And raised his hand before anyone could interrupt. "I never said this was simple. You're just going to have a little faith in the plan but if you don't want to risk it then feel free to opt out now." He waited, no one moved. "Good. Now I'm going to need one of you to come sit with Sucre and I at dinnertime and start unscrewing the screws off the drain cover."

"Hell you guys sit there anyway, why don't one of you two do it?" C-Note, said.

"It's because we sit there all time that we can't do it." Michael explained impatiently. "If one of us crouches down beneath the table where the COs can't see us then they're going to notice one of us isn't there and get suspicious."

"In which case Westmoreland, your time to shine has come." T-bag delegated.

"Hate to point it out to you son but I've sat in the exact same place every meal time for the past thirty years. If I'm not there then it's going to stick out like a sore thumb."

"Looks like it's you then T-bag." C-Note said. "You're the only one who changes seating positions according to which Tweener you've got your eye on at the time."

T-bag glared at him. "And what exactly am I meant to use to undo these bolts?"

"They're not bolts, they're screws. And be imaginative, anything like a paperclip oughta work." Michael said. He motioned to the others to start painting the walls before a guard walked in on them. "Oh and T-bag, when we get to the infirmary corridor stage, you're going to need to be the one to create a distraction and take some guards out if need be." Michael said, turning to examine the unpainted wall in front of him. He heard T-bag drop his brush and walk up to him.

"Let me ask you something. Why do I always have to do your dirty work? You think because you got the brains, you get to take less risks than the rest of us?" T-bag said challengingly.

"Hey now. That's unfair." Sucre said, turning round. "If it wasn't for Fish here then we wouldn't have a hope in hell of getting out of here."

T-bag turned to address the whole group. "Exactly hope. That's all we've been given at the moment. And let me tell you something, hope ain't any use to me by itself." He turned back to Michael. "You keep delaying this escape until something happens which screws the plan up. We coulda been out of here days ago if we did things my way."

"If we did things your way we'll all be in the Shoe for the rest of our life with no hope of parole." Michael said calmly.

T-bag gave him an annoyed look. "You think you're so clever don't you Fish? With your degree and your charm." He said, stepping up to Michael and shoving him against the wall.

"Back off T-bag." Sucre said, giving the Westmoreland and C-Note a worried glance. Something was brewing and he didn't like it.

"Awwh. Can't Fish take care of himself!"

Something snapped in Michael. He knew he should have just gritted his teeth and let T-bag work through his anger but he had put up with too much. He didn't ask for the extra baggage when he started out and although the extra hands had come in handy with digging, T-bag was now something of a liability. Michael shoved T-bag off him. "Stay away from me." He hissed.

"Hell I will." T-bag said coming back at him. Michael gritted his teeth. He hadn't asked to start this fight.

"Break it up guys." C-Note said urgently. "Unless you want the COs in here."

But T-bag wasn't listening and kneed Michael in the stomach and pushed him at the same time, making him lose his balance and knock over a bottle of paint stripper before moving forward and shoving Michael to the floor.

"Sort out the plan Fish." T-bag spat, stepping away.

Michael didn't move at first, he physically couldn't. He tried to hold it in by biting down hard on his bottom lip until it bled and screwing his face up but the pure agony was getting too much.

"Michael, what's wrong?" Westmoreland asked, concernedly.

"Hey Fish! Fish?" Sucre called, kneeling down next to his cellmate.

Suddenly Michael let out a piercing scream which echoed off the bare walls.

The paint stripper had made contact with his burn wound. Words simply couldn't describe the pain.


End file.
